


Chains

by TheShyestIcicle



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Character Study, Female Lavellan City Elf Background, Future Male Inquisitor, Inquisitor Backstory, Male-Female Friendship, Original Character(s), POV Original Character, mentions of physical and emotional abuse, nothing graphic though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 21:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12992634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShyestIcicle/pseuds/TheShyestIcicle
Summary: Clear Lavellan has always been told he was free. He was better off than the city elves who eked out a living among the shemlen. But he was never, could never, be what his clan wanted him to be. Sometimes what is freedom for some is only chains for another.





	Chains

His first memory is of a cold, proud voice, warm sunshine, and a gentle laugh. He plays with the halla, running after them as fast as his chubby toddler legs allow. A halla nudges him with her nose and he giggles, pulling a little treat out of his pocket to feed her.

“…and ridiculously mediocre,” his mamae is saying, “ _This_ is _my_ son?”

“Our son. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with him.” Papa’s voice is gentle and mild, and he does not notice the faint anger in his tone.

His mamae makes that noise she always makes when she’s annoyed, but he is only focused on his papa. He squeals in delight and runs for his papa, arms stretched out.

Papa smiles and lifts him up, spinning him around.

Mamae makes that noise again and he peeks at her, only to immediately bury his face in Papa’s chest.

Even at only two years old, Clear Lavellan can see the contempt in his mother’s eyes.

* * *

 

 At six years old Clear is too old to cry. Mamae always tells him this and he believes her, because Mamae is bigger than everything and everyone.

But when the clan’s _hahren_ pulls Clear aside and gently tells him that Papa will not come back from his hunting trip, Clear cries. He cries and cries and cries, even when the _hahren_ tries to comfort him, even when Mamae glares at him. His papa, his gentle and kind papa is gone, and he will never dance with Clear again, never soothe Clear’s nightmares, never play with the halla with him, and never stop Mamae from yelling again.

Later, when Mamae and Clear are alone, Mamae gives him that look of contempt again and slaps him.

“Never cry!” she snarls and Clear nods frantically.

But he cannot stop the tears from welling in his eyes and Mamae’s eyes narrow. She slaps him again.

“You are a child of the Dalish and you only shame the People when you cry. To cry is to be weak.” She glares at him and he lowers his eyes in shame. “You will never rise if you are weak. Do you understand me?”

Clear doesn’t. The other children cry and sometimes so do the adults and no one yells at them, no one tells them they are weak. No one pushes them, like Mamae pushes him, tells them to be better to always be better.

 But they are not Mamae.

“Yes, Mamae,” he whispers.

* * *

 

 Later, he curls up next to the halla in the halla pen. He wants Papa, but he will never have Papa again. The other clan members have tried to talk to him, but he pulled away, because they are not Papa and only Papa could ever comfort him.

And so he comes to the halla, because they will not give him words of sympathy, words that Clear has been taught mean nothing. _It’s okay. You’ll be okay. I’m sorry, so sorry. We’ll help you. Your papa is still with you, in memory. It will hurt less, over time._

Mamae laughs at them and tells Clear that those words only serve to make him weak. He does not know if he believes her, but the words frighten him anyway, because he does not know what to do with them. The halla are safer. The halla are simple. They let him bury his face in their fur and sob. They let him curl up against them, and they keep him warm in the night’s chill air. One halla reaches down and licks Clear’s tears.

The halla keeper finds him asleep in the morning, the halla surrounding him like a furry protective barrier.

Clear is afraid, at first, when the halla keeper wakes him up, because he is very tall, like Mamae, and Mamae always yells at him when she finds Clear with the halla. But the halla keeper only smiles at him and helps him sit up, dusting the dirt of Clear’s rumpled clothes.

The halla keeper’s name is Glenn and he has papa’s kind smile and gentle voice. He gives Clear a roll and though he must know who Clear’s father is- _was_ , he does not say any of those words Mamae scorns. He only tells Clear he can come see the halla whenever he wants and does he want to learn how to care for them?

Clear bites into his roll and gives a small nod, a tentative smile spreading across his face.

* * *

 

 At eight years old, Clear’s light blue eyes suddenly turn to a dark gold and he accidentally sets fire to one of Mamae’s shirts. Mamae’s entire body stiffens and Clear flinches, because she must be angry.

But instead Mamae laughs, and her laugh is happy and free, and then she takes Clear into her arms. Clear stiffens because Mamae never hugs him and the hug hurts a little. But Mamae just keeps laughing.

“I knew my son was destined for more than tending to the halla!” Her voice sneers at the word halla and Clear stiffens again, because Mamae has always scorned Glenn and Clear does not like anyone to insult his teacher.

But he obediently takes his Mamae’s hand when she tells him they are going to the Keeper’s aravel.

The Keeper tells him he is a mage and that she will teach him to control his magic. He is the only mage in the clan, besides the Keeper now, and she says he will learn to be her First. Clear does not want to be a mage or the First, but his Mamae is beaming and the Keeper is happy too. He does not want to make Mamae mad or disappoint the Keeper, so he smiles.

That night in their aravel, Clear tells her he is nervous. He does not tell her he is actually frightened and that he does not want to be a mage, because he has heard the other children whisper that the _shemlen_ lock their mages away, because mages are dangerous and can hurt everyone around them. He doesn’t know if the _shemlen_ are right to do so, but he does know he doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

Mamae laughs at him and tells him not to be silly, using a kinder voice than she has ever used toward him. Mages are important, she tells him, because they can protect the clan in ways the hunters cannot. That a First is the best he can be, because he will learn to be Keeper one day, and he will guide the clan and preserve the old ways. A First is an important position, and of course any son of hers should have the best.

Mamae is happy, happier than he’s ever seen her, and she even gives him his papa’s old amulet, a gift for his new and better life.

And so he does not tell her that he doesn’t want to guide the clan, that he doesn’t want to be important, that he only wants to be a halla keeper, like Glenn.

He does tell Glenn and Glenn hugs him tightly and tells him he does not have to do anything he does not want to do. But Clear thinks of Mamae and her proud smile and she has never been proud of him.

And so he tells Glenn everything will be fine.

* * *

 

At twelve years old, Clear meets a city elf.

He is in the forest, at the very edge, very close to a _shemlen_ city. The Keeper would not be happy if she knew, but Clear does not care. He wants to see more, know more, and the Keeper will not let him accompany some of the hunters when they trade with the _shemlen._ She tells him that though Clan Lavellan gets along with _shemlen_ better than most Dalish clans, _shemlen_ can still pose a threat and he is too young to venture too far from the clan.

But he wants to decide these things for himself. He wants to see a _shemlen_ city, because older clan members have told him they are large and crowded and loud and they sound more exciting than camp. He wants to see his kin in the city, even if the other clan members scoff at the ‘flat-ears’ and tell him elves that live in the city are weak-willed and pathetic. He thinks they can’t be so horrible as he is told, because if they can survive living among the _shemlen_ who look down upon them, they must be stronger than the Dalish say.

Clear nearly trips over her, this city elf, because she is lying on the grass, staring at the sky. She is a bit older than him and she is pretty, he supposes, although he is starting to realize he does not notice girls.

Her name is Blodwyn and she likes to play in the forest and pretend she is free of the walls that surround her in her alienage. She is bright and happy and she smiles a lot, and she does not think Clear is stupid when he asks her a million questions. She invites him to play this weird game called Wicked Grace and he loses every round, but he doesn’t mind. She is nice to him and genuine in a way his Mamae never was.

They meet often and sometimes she even sneaks him into her alienage. He does not have a _vallaslin_ , so the elves of the alienage do not know he is Dalish, just another city elf that probably lives on a farm. The alienage is as poverty stricken as he has been taught, but the elves there look after each other and that is not so different from his clan. They are more beaten down than any elf Clear has seen, but still proud in their family and traditions. That, too, is not so different from his clan.

He tells only Glenn about Blodwyn. He thinks Glenn might have been a city elf once, but Glenn never talks about his past, and the one time Clear asked him he looked so sad that Clear never brought it up again. And Glenn understands, as he always does, and he does not tell the rest of the clan about Blodwyn.

When the time comes for the clan to move on, Clear meets Blodwyn one last time. She promises to come to their spot every day, until the clan is in the area again, and she cries. Clear does not cry, he has not cried in a long time, but he hugs Blodwyn tightly.

* * *

 

 

At thirteen years old, Clear starts to realize that girls do not make him blush or stutter and do not make his stomach flutter.

He does not really know why, not until one day he sees a clanmate his age bathing in a river, his body tan and muscular. Clear blushes and blushes and he runs away, because he does not know what to do with these newly discovered feelings.

He cannot get his clanmate out of his head and he starts to dream about him. These feelings are odd and exciting and frightening. He had always thought he would start to feel this way toward girls, and he has seen the other boys act ridiculous around the girls. But feelings are feelings and if he has them toward boys, it cannot really be so different than if they were girls instead.

He mentions to his mother one day that he would rather bond with a boy than a girl and he thinks nothing of it, until his mother stiffens. He watches her nervously, because he did not think she would be so angry, he has done nothing wrong.

But Mother slaps him and sharply tells him that he cannot do his duty to Sylaise if he bonds with a man instead of a woman. Children are the future of the People, she tells him, and she expects him to do his duty as a Dalish and a First and provide his people with children.

He tells the Keeper what Mother said, although he does not say she slapped him, because he still does not understand why this should be so wrong. The Keeper is much kinder than Mother and she does not hit him, but she does explain that the clan expects him to bond one day and provide the clan with children. She tells him if he prefers boys that is okay and she does not expect him to bond with a girl, but he can hear a quiet note of disappointment in her voice.

The Keeper is not Mother and she would never force him to do something he doesn’t want, but he knows the clan, all the clans, always need children, because the Dalish are few, and he fears he has already let his clan down.

He thinks he might tell Glenn, because he has never seen Glenn look at a woman in the way the other boys do, but that might mean nothing, and he does not think he could bear it if Glenn reacts like the Keeper.

He wishes he could tell Blodwyn. She would tease him without mercy, but she would also tease him if he liked girls, because she would not care who he prefers.

But the clan has long since moved on and he does not know how long it will be before they pass by her city again.

* * *

 

 At fourteen, Clear’s clan is near Blodwyn’s city again.

He has missed her and he cannot sneak away to their meeting spot fast enough. He finds her there, pacing, her eyes wide and anxious, and his smile slips away, because Blodwyn is never anxious.

Sixteen is late for magic to emerge, but it is not impossible, and last night Blodwyn froze a _shemlen_ that made advances toward her. She had fled and came to their meeting spot, like she did every morning, but the templars would find her soon if she did not leave.

She is afraid and Blodwyn is never afraid. They will lock her in a Circle she says, away from light and air and freedom. Clear has only the vaguest idea of what a Circle is like, but he does know mages can learn there without having to worry about starving in the winter or being attacked. They are warm and fed and he does not think that sounds so bad.

But Blodwyn only laughs unhappily and tells him she would rather have freedom than comfort.

So Clear grabs her hand and he guides he to his clan, because Blodwyn is afraid and he cannot let her be taken to the place that makes her so scared. And he knows the clan will not be happy, but he doesn’t care because Blodwyn is not a flat-ear, she is not weak, and she deserves freedom.

The Keeper is not thrilled and Mother glares and some of the other clan members mutter. But Blodwyn is allowed to stay in the end and that is all that matters.

* * *

 

 At seventeen, Clear earns his _vallaslin_.

He does not want one or need one, because he doesn’t care to distinguish himself from city elves and he does not believe in the freedom it supposedly represents. A symbol of the People’s refusal to submit, yet they still hide in the forests and the plains and the deserts. They still bow to the s _hemlen_ by refusing to try to co-exist with them and the city elves and how is that the freedom they are so proud of?

But he says nothing, because the Keeper already suspects she might be losing him and though he is not close to her, she has still taught him much, and he does not want to disappoint her more.

And so he sits still and lets the Keeper ink the _vallaslin_ on his face, though he no longer even believes in the Creators. How can he hold faith in gods that do not answer their prayers, that do not seem to care how the elves of this world are treated?

He chooses Ghilan’nain’s _vallaslin_. He will make these markings his own symbol, a symbol of a halla pen he had hoped to tend one day, a symbol of the gentle man who was like a father to him.

And a small rebellion, because his Mother, who glares as the markings are inked on his face, would have wanted him to choose something more suited for a mage, for a First. Even the Keeper thinks it is an odd chose for a First, though she is not angry or even upset.

Clear lifts his head a little, ignoring the pain, and manages a small smile at his mother.

She bares her teeth and he knows he will pay for that small act of defiance later. And no one will stop her, because she is careful and always makes sure they are alone and out of earshot, and he will never tell anyone.

But for now he can revel in his small victory.

Funny, how the _vallaslin_ of a goddess he does not even believe him is the first thing he chooses for himself.

* * *

 

 At nineteen, Clear gives his position of First to Blodwyn.

It is the best for the clan. Clear is not well liked by most of the clan, as he is not very personable and he has drawn away from them for years. He has no interest in discovering and preserving the ways of the ancient elves, because they are dead and in the past, and the Dalish are alive and in the present. But that is not the attitude of a First or a Keeper and Blodwyn has always been more Dalish than him.

Even the Keeper thinks it is for the best, though she still gives Clear the position of Second and tells him he can still go to her for anything he needs. And he believes her, because he knows she cares for him, as she does for all her clan, even if he must disappoint her. Even though she must know he is slipping away.

He is a bit proud of himself, because this really is the best choice for the clan and for once he has been able to do something the clan can be proud of. Blodwyn is a better First, a better Dalish elf, and the clan loves her. She will be a wonderful Keeper and he will be happy to be below her, because he has never wanted to lead and he feels as if he might not suffocate after all.

When he tells his mother, he thinks she will be pleased, because she will see he is doing what his best for the clan.

Her eyes darken and he knows he was wrong.

“How dare you!” she hisses and she takes a step toward him. “How dare you!”

Clear flinches and steps back. “M-mother, I-“ His eyes dart around and he wishes they were not alone, that someone, anyone was near and could stop her.

“Who do you think you are,” she yells,” to make that kind of decision! You’ve gone too far! Selfish brat! Have you not thought of me? All I have done for you, to ensure you will rise above, and you give up your position to be a mere _Second_?!”

“I thought it was best for the clan,” Clear whispers.

His mother laughs. “No. No, you did what you wanted. Selfish brat. You are a disgrace, an absolute disgrace to the Dalish, to your clan, to me!”

“Mamae…” he whispers. _I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Don’t hate me, please, I’ll do better, I’ll-_

She hits him.

Not her usual slaps, those that sting and make him wish he were better. This time her hand is not empty and he does not quite understand this, not until he feels a flash of pain as skin rips open, not until he feels warm blood drip into and over his left eye.

Clear whimpers in shock and pain and presses his hand against his bleeding eye.

His mother says nothing, just glares at him, her teeth still bared. _Go_ , her eyes say, _go you ungrateful son!_

“Mamae,” he whimpers and he reaches out to her, because he is sorry, and he will do better, he will be who she wants.

He just wants her eyes to soften, for her to take her in her arms and tell him she is proud of him and she loves him.

But his mother only laughs, an ugly, hysterical laugh. “You are no son of mine!” she shrieks and she throws something at him and he barely dodges in time.

The tears he has not shed for so long spill over and he runs.

* * *

 

 Blodwyn and Glenn find him curled in a ball, the halla surrounding him and nuzzling him, offering comfort in the only way they can.

He’s okay, he says. He’s fine, he’s fine, he just tripped and hit his head against something sharp. That’s all, that’s why he has such a horrible, vertical gash against his eye.

They do not believe him, and he thinks they suspect, but he does not tell them, as he has never told them, and there is nothing to prove it.

They take him to the Keeper and he thinks she suspects too, and he wonders if she has always suspected, if Glenn and Blodwyn had too. But he does not speak and he never will and he only insists he fell.

She heals him and he will have a scar, but he doesn’t care and he doesn’t speak.

Later, as he lays curled in a ball, unable to sleep, his eye hurting, he hears that his mother has left, slipped away in the night.

That is proof enough for the Keeper, for Blodwyn and Glenn, but Clear pretends to be asleep when they come to him, one by one.

In the end, they leave him to rest and Clear stares at the roof of the Keeper’s aravel, thinking he should feel relived, angry, unhappy, anything.

Instead he feels drained, drained and empty.

* * *

 

 At twenty years old, Clear’s hand flares green and pulses with pain unlike anything he has ever felt.

He doesn’t quite remember how he got here, and he certainly does not remember his hand glowing green. It has something to do with the Conclave, he supposes, and he mildly wonders if he should have volunteered to spy after all.

But there really was nothing left for him with his clan. Even with Blodwyn and Glenn, Clear had slipped further and further away from the Dalish. Blodwyn and Glenn, though they loved him dearly and he them, they belonged with the clan and Clear did not.

In the end, even sitting in a prison with a glowing hand and scattered memories, how could Clear regret ever taking this role of spy? He was chained now, but somehow he felt more free than ever.

And when the _shemlen_ woman- no, Cassandra, not _shemlen_ -shows him this Breach and tells him they need him, he almost thinks he might have done something right for once.

Because this mark on his hand, if Cassandra is right, he can use it to help and he can actually be what they need. He had never been what his clan needed, had never been able to.

He thinks about what Blodwyn once told him about city life and how the Dalish always seemed so free to her. He thinks that maybe what seems like freedom to one person can be chains to another.

And so when Cassandra kneels down to tell him they need him, after his mark flares and brings him to his knees, he only asks if this thing on his hand can truly help.

And when she says it could, he nods, takes a deep breath and tells her he will help.

He almost expects contempt in her eyes, because though she said they need him, his mother had said that once too, but she had never had any faith in Clear, had never showed him support.

But Cassandra only seems surprised, a little relived, and… he thinks there might be something like approval in her eyes.

His hand hurts horribly and his scar twinges like it always does when there is danger, but he allows Cassandra to pull him up.

And even with the various shemlen glaring at him, even with them thinking he is a murderer, he feels, for the first time in a long time, something that might be hope.


End file.
